


i've still got so much love hidden beneath this skin

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 9





	i've still got so much love hidden beneath this skin

The only thing between Niall and Harry was a stretch of hallway and a two and a half inch thick oak door, with a worn silver handle. The kind you’d find on an antique water pitcher, but with a little lever on top where one’s thumb would push the door open to be greeted by the scent of cinnamon and honey, the sound of Harry’s cats, the temperate blanket of warmth that kept the cold London evening outside. This upset a minuscule piece of the pit in Niall’s stomach, but not enough to make him waver. When the door did not open for him, he used the momentum he’d gathered from the lift to Harry’s doorstep and curled his hand into a fist. He pounded on the door, next to the peephole, with such a force he thought, for a second, he might put his hand through the door.  
“Harry! I know you’re there. Let me in.” He shouted at the door. He briefly felt guilty about disturbing the neighbors, but thought about all the other disturbances Harry must have brought home and refocused himself.  
“Harry!”

He heard footsteps, or maybe he wanted to hear footsteps, but he could see in his mind’s eye Harry rising from his couch, or maybe coming from his bedroom, crossing his living room, stopping before the door and checking the peephole. Niall took a step back in anticipation just as he heard the deadbolt unlock.   
“Niall?”  
Harry’s face was even, if not a little confused. His hair was pulled back into an effortless half up/half down sort of situation and he was wearing the sort of outfit you throw together when you go to the liquor store at 1 am. He was tired, the way a rock is worn smooth by repeated battering from a raging river. Niall had seen Harry at his best and his worst moments, and he’d never seen him look more beautiful. It took everything in him not to punch him in the face.

Niall didn’t wait for Harry to invite him across the threshold. He shoved past him, using the few moments of surprise to make his way well into Harry’s living room. There were his cats, curled up on his couch, the television glowing softly in the dimly lit apartment. The kitchen light was on. That same part of the pit in Niall’s stomach churned, wanting so desperately to absorb the hearth-y feeling Harry’s Space gave him. “Niall what the fuck are you-”

“What did you say to him?” Niall turned sharply on his heel. The pensive sadness of nostalgia was gone. Harry’s eyes widened and he folded his arms over his chest.  
“What in the world are you talking about?”  
Niall scoffed. He felt a little self conscious about how direct his anger was making him, but he was determined to ride the wave until he got the answer he was looking for.  
“Niall, we’ve never not been able to talk through things.” Harry offered, sympathetically, because he was infuriating like that.  
“Not this time.” Niall steeled himself against Harry’s stature, his doe eyes that never got him a no, his lips that curved downwards to a thoughtful frown. Niall could almost hear the gears working in Harry’s head.

“Louis hasn’t talked to me since Johannah. What did you say to him.” Niall repeated. This earned him a look from Harry as if he’d slapped him.  
“This is about Louis?”  
“You’re damn fucking right it’s about Louis.”  
“You came to my house in the middle of the fucking night, un-fucking-announced, to confront me, about my ex?” Harry didn’t get angry just like Niall didn’t get angry. Special occasions only.

“I deserve to know what you said to him.” Niall shot back. Harry’s cats had started to wake up to the noise, sleepily raising their heads.  
“You don’t get to know anything about that.” The crease between Harry’s eyebrows was deep, the hint of a frown from before a full scowl now. Niall passively noted that both he and Harry had began to breathe more heavily.  
“I didn’t do anything wrong, but he won’t talk to me. It’s driving me fucking crazy.” Niall countered.  
“That’s not my fucking fault.” Harry delivered his words with pure venom. “I’m not his fucking keeper.” One of Harry’s cats, a smaller gray cat, had made his way over to the two of them shouting in the middle of his room and began to rub his side against Harry’s calf. Harry didn’t notice.

“This was your problem in your relationship, yknow.” Niall pointed out. Harry’s facial expression, in any other context, would have been laughable. He looked at Niall as if he’d sprouted wings.  
“What the fuck did you say to me?”  
“You fucking heard me. You left him to his own devices and you never gave him a second fucking thought.”  
“You don’t get to say anything about my relationship, Horan.” Harry closed the space between the two of them, prodding at Niall’s chest with his index finger for punctuation on every emphasized word. Niall let himself be backed up by Harry’s advancing footsteps. His cats had retreated elsewhere.

“He’s my fucking friend.” Niall retaliated, once Harry was done.   
“So fucking take it up with him.” Harry sneered, turning suddenly on his heel to walk towards the door. “Show your fucking self out. Don’t come back.”

Niall still hadn’t gotten the answer he wanted. “You’re ok with letting him just slip through your fingers like that?” He goaded. Harry stopped in his tracks.  
“Where are you getting this fucking idea in your thick skull that I didn’t fucking try my best, ok?” He faced Niall once more. Niall almost smiled to himself for being able to keep Harry on edge for so long. Out of all of them, he had been the one to be able to get under Harry’s skin the most. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how different they were, or how similar.

“Because I know Louis wouldn’t have been the one to give up.” Niall countered. He was speaking words he believed, but he was also aware he was getting out of his depth. Harry’s eyes began to water. Fuck. Niall was a sympathetic crier, and holy shit did Harry cry a lot.

“I never gave up on him.” Harry’s voice broke. “I just gave up on us.”

Niall let the words hang in the air. The cozy feeling of the apartment shifted from homely to stand-offish. Niall, for the first time that night, felt like a stranger in his best mate’s apartment. Tears streaked Harry’s face. Niall watched him get redder, his eyes getting puffier. It was a familiar sight. It was almost comforting, to know he still felt so strongly. Niall had watched Harry’s face change like this an infinite amount of times, and he knew himself enough to know his face was turning the same. 

They watched each other, for a moment, though they knew both of their minds were somewhere else. This was familiar.  
“Did you come here just to hurt me?” Harry whispered. His voice cracked again. The apartment was so silent that the sound of him asking was so loud that it sent a chill down Niall’s spine. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, unsure. He knew what he wanted to say. He just didn’t know if he was brave enough to-  
“I’m still in love with him, Haz.”

Harry finally put a hand over his face, breaking their eye contact. His shoulders heaved and a painful sob ripped from his chest. Niall wiped at his own cheeks furiously, set on not letting himself devolve as Harry had. They remained standing. Harry, barefoot, in his comfortable clothes, shoulders shaking as he pressed his palms into his eyes. Niall, stood opposite to him, letting his tears fall freely as he sniffled every few moments.   
“I’m still in love with him.” Niall repeated. This was the first time he’d ever said it aloud. He wasn’t sure how it would feel. Maybe freeing. Maybe painful. He didn’t expect to feel angry all over again. “And you hurt him.”

Harry looked up from his hands, tears still streaking his face. “I didn’t know-”  
“Bullshit.” It was Niall’s turn to choke on his words. “You knew I was in love with him before you ever were. And now he won’t even talk to me.”  
“I didn’t know you were still-”  
“It’s Louis.” Niall interjected with a bitter laugh. He and Harry shared a knowing glance. Nobody just gets over Louis. Harry turned away first.

The kettle Harry had on started to scream bloody murder. It made the two of them jump, but Harry hurried to turn it off. All the grief, anger, regret, heart wrenching sorrow Niall felt the past few hours hit him like a train. He wrapped his arms around himself and turned his gaze towards the floor. The same gray cat from before reemerged to rub himself on Niall’s leg now. Niall felt his stomach twist in guilt and shame.

“He won’t talk to me, either.” Harry spoke from the kitchen. Niall turned towards the sound of his voice. “I thought maybe we could patch things up. After Johannah.” He clarified, bringing two mugs down from the cabinet.   
“I just don’t want him to be alone.” Niall returned, scratching absentmindedly at a spot on his arm. The anger was starting to be replaced by the feeling he’d been avoiding. Heartbreak.

“I didn’t know you were... still in love with him. I guess I could have talked to you first.” Harry continued as he dropped two tea bags into the mugs he’d brought to the counter. He poured the boiling water methodically. “Some guy, Louis is.” He mostly said for himself, but made sure he said loudly enough for Niall to hear. Just in case he needed to laugh. He stirred in sugar to his, honey to Niall’s- because he still remembered how Niall took his tea- and picked up the mugs to turn and offer one. 

The room was empty. The space where Niall had been was now filled by Harry’s gray cat. He cocked his head at Harry and let out a little meow.


End file.
